THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

Chapter 264 CONFRONTATIONS AND CLARITY

David settled into a lotus position on the creaky floor of his shabby room, closing his eyes and letting out a slow, measured breath. The chaos of the past day churned in his mind: Winter's timid feelings for Brendah, the enigmatic King of the Night, and the cryptic connection to the Snow Devil. Each piece felt like a fragment of a grander puzzle, one he was still too blind to see clearly. As he focused, his breath slowed further, his mind slipping into an unusual state of clarity.

The room's faint noises faded, replaced by the rhythmic cadence of his heartbeat. David envisioned the faces and emotions he had encountered—the desperation in Winter's love for Brendah, her conflicted expressions, and Ced's ominous whispers about the Snow Devil. Were they all pawns in the same game? The question echoed in his mind, reverberating until all thoughts stilled. His breathing deepened, and for a moment, it felt as though he could feel the flow of energy in the air around him.

A sudden, loud bang snapped him out of his trance. His eyes shot open, locking onto Delilah standing at the door. Her hand was still on the doorknob, her burly frame outlined by the dim glow of the hallway. She stared at him, her face an odd mixture of confusion and irritation.

"Get your ass up. It's time," she barked, her voice breaking the stillness.

David blinked, still caught between the serenity of meditation and the reality before him. "Can I help you?" he asked, his voice calm, betraying none of the irritation that might have been expected.

Delilah crossed her arms, her annoyance mounting. "Good, you're awake. Get to your reception," she commanded sharply.

David glanced toward the window. The darkness outside was as absolute as ever. His brow furrowed in confusion. "But the sun isn't up yet," he said, unsure if he had lost track of time during his meditation.

"Sun?" Delilah repeated, her tone shifting from annoyance to concern. "It's been years since the sun came up. Are you feeling okay, Winter?"

David hesitated, the weight of her words sinking in. He quickly forced a sheepish chuckle, brushing it off. "Oh, haha, I guess I forgot," he said, standing up and stretching his stiff limbs.

Delilah frowned, her eyes narrowing as if trying to read him. "Right... better not let the place get to you," she muttered, stepping aside as he passed through the doorway.

"Better get to work....?" David said with a grin, masking the swirl of thoughts in his head.

As he descended the staircase, Delilah stood at the door, watching him with a puzzled expression. Something about Winter was off, and she couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't the same timid boy she had known.

David entered the reception area, the soft flicker of a lantern casting dancing shadows on the walls. A row of boxes filled with candles waited for him, each a silent testament to the endless stream of customers this place catered to. He took his seat at the counter, idly spinning a quill between his fingers, the sharp point catching the dim light.

The air was thick with anticipation as the door creaked open. One by one, weary yet eager men filtered in, their faces haggard but lit with excitement. They handed over coins, their tired gazes glimmering with unspoken promises of indulgence. David handed them the requested candles, his mind elsewhere, pondering the strange happenings and cryptic revelations of the past day.

As the crowd grew, a familiar figure approached the counter. Old Man Ced, bundled in a thick coat and gloves, his grin as wide as the crescent moon, sauntered over. "Winter, maboy," he called out, his voice booming over the low murmur of the room. "Did ya get any sleep?" His tone carried a curious undertone, as though he were fishing for more than just an answer.

David glanced up, his expression guarded. "Sure, I have," he replied evenly, handing over a candle to a waiting customer.

Ced leaned in closer, rubbing his gloved hands together with glee. "And?!" he pressed, his grin widening to reveal crooked teeth. His anticipation hung in the air like a storm cloud, but before David could form a response, a deafening bang echoed from upstairs.

The sound jolted everyone, the room falling into a tense silence. A woman's anguished scream followed, sharp and chilling, slicing through the murmurs of concern. David's heart skipped a beat, the voice too familiar to ignore. Instinct took over as he shot out of his seat and bolted up the stairs two at a time.

When he reached the upper floor, the sight before him stopped him cold. Delilah, the indomitable brute of a woman, was sprawled on the floor, her face twisted in fury and pain as though she'd been thrown with tremendous force. She clutched her ribs, struggling to rise.

David's eyes trailed past her, and his heart hammered in his chest at the scene ahead. A man stood in the center of the room, his hand tightly gripping Brendah's dark chestnut hair. She hung limply, her face bruised and bloodied, her trembling hands clutching the man's arm in a futile attempt to free herself.

"Stupid hoe," the man snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "Can't even do your job properly." He gave her head a harsh shake, drawing a pained whimper from her lips.

David's blood boiled. A wave of emotions crashed over him—rage, disgust, and a strange, protective instinct that he couldn't explain. He stepped forward, his movements slow but deliberate.

"Let her go," David said, his voice low and steady, yet carrying an undeniable edge.

The man turned, his sneer faltering as he noticed David. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?" he spat, though his grip on Brendah loosened slightly.

David didn't answer, his gaze locking onto Brendah's pleading eyes, filled with fear. His fists clenched tightly as he stepped forward, ignoring Delilah's groan. "Winter... don't…" she warned weakly.

The man laughed, his arrogance growing. "What, you think you can stop me"

Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed from the stairs. Three men appeared, their laughter ominous. "Scrum, kid," one jeered, cracking his knuckles.

David's chest tightened, anger surging as the air turned icy. A faint chill spread, and his breath fogged. A glowing system window materialized before him:

["Special Quest Activated"]